28 Jazzes
by Scape Goat
Summary: For the 28s meme on Livejournal. 28 ficlets centered around Jazz in G1, Animated, and 2007 movie continuity. Contains various pairings and slash.
1. Angsty

**Angsty**

Losing a bondmate to a Cybertronian was like losing one of your senses. When Prowl died, Jazz may have just as well been blind or deaf, for he felt just as lost without his presence. His spark kept seeking for its partnered energy, but it only reached out into an empty void. He was not himself because he _had_ truly lost a part of himself. He felt isolated. It was impossible to concentrate when his mind and his spark alike would not let him rest. His very essence _needed_ Prowl, but there was no way to replace that emotion. Though, it could be quenched for at least the slightest of moments...

Jazz was not selfish enough to think himself alone in his suffering. The very first night he spent without his mate, Bluestreak sought him out. Without the young mech's presence, Jazz surely would have collapsed into a wreck that he could not recover from. Bluestreak's silent understanding and his tight embrace meant the world. Jazz wasn't even sure Bluestreak knew how much that moment had meant to him - and Jazz could barely fathom how he could possibly express it either.

Bluestreak had been just as close to Jazz and Prowl alike. Prowl had tried to take the young mech under his wing without much success - or so he assumed. Prowl always found Bluestreak to be a bit too absentminded for his own good. His thoughts - much like his pattern of speech - always carried on and on to drift from the topic at hand. As result, Bluestreak was easily distracted in battle, and it showed more than once. Prowl was always discreetly concerned and never thought his lectures ever did Bluestreak much good, but Jazz knew better. He could see where Prowl had imprinted on the younger mech, and it was never clearer than it was now.

When Bluestreak came to Jazz, he spoke to him about Prowl. He spoke of what admiration he had held for the tactician, how much he had wanted his praise and approval though he knew he'd never achieve it. Jazz spoke reassuringly, revealing how much the young mech had lingered in Prowl's thoughts and how much silent affection he hid away.

In this way, comforting Bluestreak, Jazz comforted himself. Jazz could not talk about his loss of Prowl yet, and doubted he could for a long time - but to hear Bluestreak speak of the same sorrows Jazz himself felt soothed his spark. To know he wasn't alone, to feel that he could still be strong for Bluestreak... that would keep him going even through the darkest of times.

"Thank you for listening," said Bluestreak quietly, resting his head on Jazz's shoulder.

Jazz wrapped an arm around the young mech and held him close. _Thank you for talking,_ he replied silently.


	2. At the Beach

**At the Beach**

After life on Cybertron, Earth was a great shift to adapt to in many ways. Namely, Cybertron was brightly lit with its own energy sources, while Earth relied on the light of sun. It was an interesting balance, day and night. While many of them had witnessed it while exploring new planets, actually living in these conditions was quite different.

Namely, they had to endure the sun's unforgiving, scalding heat. Luckily though, humans had discovered great ways to combat this.

Jazz released a content sigh as he stepped out into the cool ocean water. He found himself envious of Seaspray, who spent the majority of his time among the waves. Prime was allowing those off duty to visit the water as they pleased - and there were few who did not take advantage of it.

Jazz spotted one of those few wandering around the shore, kneeling and swishing his fingers in the water's edge.

"Beachcomber!" called Jazz, walking close enough to splash the distracted minibot. "Don't be shy, the water's great."

The minibot jumped, clearly startled, then shifted awkwardly. "Yeah, but... Jazz, I don't know..."

Jazz swung his hand and splashed Beachcomber again. The minibot winced, then broke into a grin. He stepped forward into the water and retaliated with vigor. It escalated faster than any match on the battlefield - and Beachcomber was relentless, tossing up water into Jazz's face without mercy. With a yelp, Jazz took off farther into the water, covering his head and laughing as he went.

"Pacifist, ha! Mercy! Retreat!"


	3. Bath Time

**Bath Time**

With the amount of members on the Ark, it was never a surprise that one entered the wash racks to find them already in use. On top of that, it was even _less_ of a surprise to find a particular pair of mechs lingering so long that one had to wonder that if they had some sort of germophobia - or if they truly were just that vain.

Most found this particular habit of Sunstreaker and Tracks' to be grating, but Jazz only felt a sense of amusement as he waited out of sight, leaning against the wall near the shower entrance. Well, that was for the first few cycles. Now he was getting a bit impatient.

Pushing himself from the wall, Jazz moved to approach the pair. The two were too engrossed in their worshipful study of one another to even register Jazz's presence. Jazz had to be close enough to rest his hand on Sunstreaker's shoulder to make himself noticed at all.

"Now, I hate to be interruptin' you two," said Jazz with a smirk. "But I have to get back to duty in the next -"

The remainder of his words were cut off as Sunstreaker securely captured his mouth with his own. Sunstreaker's glossa traced over the sealed lips - and Jazz was too shocked to react any way but compliantly parting them. Jazz quickly found himself pressed between the two. Tracks' mouth explored the back of his neck while his fingers began to work at every seam they could find in the Porsche's armor. Sunstreaker's hands quickly followed suit, seeking the smaller, hidden gaps that were normally untouched. Jazz shuddered and gasped against the Lamborghini's mouth, water cascading down his frame and washing away the now exposed dirt and grime. He heard Tracks chuckling as the two continued, refusing to let up until they'd found every sullied spot and made it pristine. The two found seams Jazz didn't even know _existed_ and manipulated them masterfully.

Jazz had to admit, none of his other showers had been quite so thorough.


	4. Book Reading

**Book Reading**

"You find yourself going deeper into the forbidden cavern," read Jazz, using his best deep, dramatic voice to raise the tension. The book Sari held was indeed human sized, but luckily the strength of Cybertronian optics allowed Jazz to focus in close enough to make out the tiny print. "You come to a crossroad. To your right, there is a pathway littered with glittering gems and golden coins - more than you could ever carry. To your left, there is an old mining kart on rickety tracks, leading into the dark unknown. Brave adventurer," Jazz took a pause for dramatic emphasis. "Which do you choose?"

Jazz and Sari looked at one another, exchanging pensive glances. Sari rubbed her chin thoughtfully, Jazz mimicked the motion. "Well," reasoned Sari. "The treasure is obviously a trap to punish you for being greedy."

"Maybe," agreed Jazz. "But, then again, they may be _expecting_ us to figure that much out and trick us..."

"You have a point," she admitted, scratching at her head absently. "And dragons usually horde treasure and we're trying to slay the dragon so... well, what do you think Prowl?"

To their right, the ninjabot gave an irritated sigh. He had remained silent up until now. "I'd rather not give any input on this matter."

Jazz gave him a hurt look. "Why not?"

"It simply does not make any sense," said Prowl flatly. "If I am to assume this story is set in the Earth medieval era - which I believe is correct due to the descriptions of the protagonists' form of dress and the entire 'dragon slaying' concept - there is no way there could possibly be a _mining cart_ present. It simply does not line up with Earth's history. Frankly, this is not what I had in mind when you said you'd be reading with Sari. I expected you'd try the finer types of Earth's literature-"

"This _is_ fine literature!" Jazz cut in, sounding deeply offended. "You're just being picky."

"No kidding," snorted Sari, wholeheartedly sharing Jazz's sentiment. "You're ruining the game, Prowl!"

"Yeah, " agreed Jazz. "Stop ruining the game, Prowl!"

Prowl groaned and raised his hands towards the ceiling in defeat. Jazz and Sari frowned after him as he stalked out of the room in a huff.

"Man, what is his problem?"

"No idea," sighed Sari, making herself more comfortable in Jazz's palm. "Now, down the miner's cart or after the gems?"

"Miner's cart," decided Jazz firmly. "Page 28 - think we'll die?"

"Maybe," said Sari with a grin. "But, we can always flip back the pages and try again."


	5. Caring

**Caring**

Despite what the humans believed, even the immense pressure of the ocean depths was not enough to crush their bodies completely. It immobilized them well enough, pining them to the ocean floor with strength enough to hurt - yet Megatron was beyond even registering that inconvenience now. His mind was oblivious to anything around him but the searing pain that burned like an inferno in his chest and spread throughout his entire body.

He did not know how long he had been off-line before the Allspark awoke again. It was a numb feeling at first, energy buzzing through him slowly. He could barely recall what had happened - but everything came back in a rush as pure, unhindered energy _exploded_ in the core of his spark and encompassed his entire frame. He could not even bring himself to cry out - the sound was drowned by static.

As the energy flooded through his body, he would feel its waves surging outward, seeking another outlet. That was when the other was revived. Not one of his, no, they did not 'inter' him with his own men. It was one of Optimus', the one Megatron himself had slain. Debating the reasons why the two of them were placed together was not worth his time - not that he could even dare fathom coherent thought at this point.

Like any other conflict ever in his existence, Megatron fought - he resisted. This was what he wanted, what he wanted for so so long... it was too much - no. No. He could endure it. Tame it. Control it. It would be _his_. It was meant to be his!

His body sunk, claws digging into the sand in search of a solid grip. It burned. It burned his very spark. The metal of his chest was a melted mess of fiery red that steamed through water colder than the ice in which he'd landed. His spark was contorting, and there was no inch in his body that did not howl in pain.

There was a sound, a soft humming that slowly built in volume. Megatron's body jerked suddenly. Magnetic fields?

It was sudden. A rush that nearly sent him off-line again. The Allspark - it's fragments, more accurately - were torn from his chest and sent tumbling across the ocean floor. Megatron collapsed again, his body still contorting from the lingering agony.

"_Fool_," he snarled, his voice sounded hoarse, laced with static. "You've ruined..."

"Be quiet," Jazz said sternly.

Megatron growled. It was a pathetically weak sound even to his own audios. The humming started up again, and Megatron felt his chest plates shifting. They rearranged, closed and shielded his vulnerable spark. Megatron hissed and thrashed with what little strength he still possessed - but the weight of the ocean pressure prevented his resistance from becoming more than a futile struggle.

"Keep still."

"Keep _off of me._"

The hum of the magnetic fields quieted then silenced entirely. Even with the visor concealing the saboteur's optics, Megatron could sense his glare. "You'll push yourself into off-lining completely."

"And how horrible that would be for you," Megatron drawled bitterly, despite the lingering pain, a smirk hung at the corners of his mouth. "I'm sure your spark would simply _ache_ with the loss."

"Mine wouldn't," replied Jazz calmly. "Optimus' would."

Megatron stilled at that. He lifted his head as far as he could manage, his optics narrowing. "He never wanted it to end like this," Jazz continued. "Even after you betrayed him, he still cared about you. He cared about you more than anything."

He regarded the Autobot for a moment, then chuckled lowly. "Does it not anger you then," he said mockingly. "To know he'd mourn I more than you?"

"No, I'm not angry," replied Jazz, his voice quiet. "I'm just trying to understand why."


	6. Dancing

**Dancing**

When her team was assigned to her, Marissa should have realized sooner that the combination of Blaster and Jazz on a mission that required stealth and most of all _quiet_ was not going to have the best results. She tried to keep her faith in them nonetheless - and so far had not been disappointed. While they set up their post and kept watch for any suspicious activity, the pair had kept themselves in perfect order.

That was, until they became bored.

Marissa nearly jumped when blaring music broke out from Blaster's alt mode. Unlike herself, Jazz was ecstatic, and already moving with the rhythm. Any authoritative commands on her part were drowned out by the noise - much to her frustration. At this volume, they'd be lucky to hear a bomb go off, much less any move by the Decepticons.

Suddenly, Marissa found herself scooped up from the ground. Jazz grinned broadly at her, holding her against her chest as he moved.

"You worry too much." How Jazz managed to speak above the music was beyond her. "C'mon, babe. Relax for awhile. I don't often get to take such a pretty thing out dancing."


	7. Daring

**Daring**

The strength of Megatron's appointed guardian of Cybertron was not to be underestimated. Shockwave was the only sentient being they had to worry about facing on the other side of the space bridge - however, with his heavy reliance on methodical logic in battle, some would say Shockwave wasn't that far from his automated drones.

However, that didn't include his penchant for anger at the invaders of his entrusted post.

For this mission, Jazz had offered to take on the task of distracting the guardian while the others retrieved the required items from Wheeljack's old lab. It had gone according to plan until Jazz made one minor mistake, and now found himself held at gunpoint by the enraged guardian.

"What are you doing here, Autobot?" Shockwave's optic flashed brightly in his anger.

Jazz smiled sweetly and shrugged nonchalantly. Shockwave bristled. "You cannot expect me to believe you came here alone. Where are the others? What are you doing here?"

Jazz's mouth thinned into a frown, he looked left and right as if in caution. "You really wanna know?" he asked, his tone growing devious.

"Obviously," said Shockwave irately, his cannon building energy.

Jazz gestured the guardian closer with his finger. Even with no expressive features, Shockwave seemed unimpressed and did not comply. Though, he allowed Jazz to inch closer himself, apparently deciding that the Autobot couldn't make any false moves when weaponless and staring down the barrel of his cannon.

Jazz moved incredibly fast - nearly jumping forward and loudly smacking his lips against the guardian's glowing optic. He punctuated the motion with a cheerful 'Muah!' and wide grin. Taken off guard, Shockwave stumbled back in confusion, allowing Jazz the opportunity he needed to duck and flee.

"I came by to play!" called Jazz while dodging a barrage of cannon fire, laughing as Shockwave's aim grew less and less accurate in his outrage.

"Missed me! Missed me!" sang Jazz, a children's song from Earth he'd picked up. "Now you gotta kiss me!"


	8. Disheveled

**Disheveled**

Even though they'd returned from Titan successful with Omega fully fueled, there was still some damage that needed to be taken take of - and repairing the massive 'bot was by no means an easy task. Refined medical training or not, Ratchet wanted all the help that he could get. Omega was their greatest defense, keeping him in top shape was incredibly important.

So, Jazz found himself offering a hand. He could manage straightforward things like replacing damaged plating and wiring while Ratchet and the other science 'bots worked on the more intricate tasks. Jazz considered himself fairly good with his hands. Not a medic by any means, but he had enough field experience to know a thing or two.

Though, Omega was a _big_ mech. Jazz had to walk to and from areas he could cover with his palm on a regular mech's anatomy. Jazz found himself growing quickly exhausted as he swapped wires that had been damaged from Omega's crash. The heat from being within the guardian's internals was immense. Jazz's intakes were heaving, coolant rushing.

"Almost got you fixed up here, Omega, baby," he reported tiredly as he refastened the last connection.

"Endearment: inaccurate." When in shuttle mode like this, Omega's voice boomed around him like an echo in an empty cave. "Age: greater than you can imagine."

"I don't mean it like that," said Jazz, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. "It's an Earth thing."

"Explanation: necessary."

Jazz sighed, preparing to return the plating over the area he'd finished repairing. "It's a nickname humans use for one another."

"For when one is in need of medical attention?" Even when Omega was making a rare curious inquiry, his voice made it sound like a stern statement.

"No, no." Jazz shook his head. "It wouldn't be proper for a medic to say that. It's usually used for mates - "

Jazz's explanation did not get much farther than that. The plating around him shifted, knocking him off balance. He soon found himself ejected from Omega's shuttle form, and caught within the tight grip of his claws.

"Endearment: _unappreciated._" Omega's voice was hard as stone, cold as ice. His optics sparked brightly from behind his visor.

Jazz could only sink down in response, trying to look nonthreatening.

"You won't hear it again."

Jazz was dropped to the ground with an unceremonious 'thud'. He groaned. The ground was filthy, but didn't bother trying to rise just yet. He could hear Ratchet cursing from somewhere, apparently not at all pleased with a transformation mid-repairs. Knowing the medic would have his hide for this, Jazz absently hoped Ratchet was caught somewhere in Omega's cogs so he'd have the time to run.


	9. Dominant

**Dominant**

Soundwave shuddered and groaned under the sensations overwhelming him. His fingers twitched and raised - but were securely forced down against the berth again. Jazz gave a slight 'tsk'ing noise, lifting his head from manipulating the cables of his throat to place a kiss against the battle mask.

"No interrupting," chided Jazz playfully. "I'm not done yet."

The saboteur slowly moved down Soundwave's body, marking his path with interchanging kisses and brushes of his glossa. With his hands restrained, Soundwave could do little in response than shiver and arch into the contact.

His vocalizer had been under control until Jazz reached the keys between his hips.

Soundwave moaned without restraint and Jazz laughed - capturing each beneath his lips and tracing the edges with his glossa. The motions were slow, teasing - and then Jazz stopped altogether, lifting himself up to regard Soundwave's features calmly.

Soundwave gave a patheically weak sound, arching into contact that was no longer there. Jazz left him hanging on the brink, toying with him - and he knew it, the smirk on his face was evidence enough.

"_Jazz,_" rasped Soundwave. "_Please._"

There was a chuckle and a shift of metal as Jazz leaned closer again, nuzzling against his partner's hip.

"Only since you ask so nicely..."


	10. Drinking

**Drinking**

Barricade growled. Not any single occasion where he'd attempted to simply relax and drink ever turned out that way. What he thought would've been an entertaining round of a drinking game ending up with him enduring a half-conscious Autobot clinging to his chassis.

"_Get off,_" Barricade snarled, tugging at the mech's wrists.

Jazz made a negating sound, shaking his head from side to side. "So bossy tonight, Prowl..."

"I don't even know who that _is_," Barricade hissed - but it fell on deaf audios. The Autobot merely cuddled closer.

"Take me into custody, officer." Jazz's voice was a slurr. "Been a bad 'bot..."

After that, Jazz was soundly in recharge. And Barricade had the task of dragging his drunken chassis off of the bar's property.


	11. Excited

**Excited**

Jazz had quickly learned what an interesting mech Wreck-Gar was as they traveled around Detroit together. Of all things imaginable, Wreck-Gar showed him the lake and took him swimming. While the young 'bot didn't know any of the proper names of the creatures and objects they spotted beneath the waves, Wreck-Gar would merrily inform him of the names _he_ would give them if he were in charge of it all. The carefree manner in which Wreck-Gar existed made Jazz feel incredibly happy. All the woes and stresses about Decepticon activity and the looming war vanished for this moment - and Jazz wanted to make it last for as long as possible.

Then an idea came to him. With all the good Wreck-Gar was doing him, why not return the favor? Jazz certainly hadn't been on Earth as long, but he'd seen his share of interesting things.

"This way," said Jazz, taking the other mech's hand in his as they walked deeper into Detroit. "No peeking, okay?"

"No peeking! None at all!" Wreck-Gar nodded, his free hand was covered over his optics obediently.

"Good." Jazz grinned, nearly bouncing on his heels. "We're almost there - you'll love this."

Wreck-Gar's eagerness seemed to fuel Jazz's own even farther. Despite there being no surprise for him, Jazz was just as excited to reach their destination.

"Can I look yet?" Wreck-Gar asked, squirming impatiently. "Pretty please with a energon goodie on top?"

Jazz laughed openly and nodded. "Yeah, you can look now."

Wreck-Gar yelped in glee and threw his hands in the air. "It's _amazing!_ It's beautiful!" he declared, before turning back to Jazz curiously. "What am I looking at?"

Jazz shook his head from side to side, laughing still. "Watch the traffic lights!"

Wreck-Gar did so, blinking slowly. "They're green!" he observed.

"Yeah, but watch for when they change."

That seemed to get the mech's attention. Wreck-Gar focused his optics on the lights intently. He nearly jumped when they switched to red and the cars froze in place.

"It's _magic!_" cried Wreck-Gar with delight. He spun around and grabbed Jazz's hands, shaking them up and down. "Show me more! Please! Please! This is much more fun than fish!"

Jazz beamed and complied, feeling just as excited as the young 'bot to venture deeper into the human city


	12. Exhausted

**Exhausted**

There were actually several reasons that one could find for the most simple addition to a mech's frame. A battle mask could hide scars or youthful features better left unseen. A visor could shield damaged optics or disguise the color belonging to a faction they once served but abandoned.

Optimus had to wonder though, that in Jazz's case, if it was something much more simple.

Optimus tried to keep his motions unnoticed during the quiet atmosphere of the meeting Prowl was leading. As subtly as he could manage, he reached out his hand and nudged the saboteur's arm. Jazz jerked up in surprise, his head twisting from side to side groggily before settling in Optimus' direction. The Prime could not resist a smile from behind his mask.

"If you're so tired," said Optimus in a quiet voice so they would not be heard over Prowl's lecturing tone. "I recommend finding a better place to recharge."

Jazz seemed a bit slow to register what he'd just been told. Then he grinned, shrugging his shoulders slowly. His exhaustion showing in his sluggish motions. "Sorry Prime. That voice of his just sends ya away, y'know..."

How drained Jazz truly was showed through as he leaned over to nuzzle into Optimus' shoulder, making himself comfortable before falling into recharge again. This motion wasn't quite so unnoticed by the other members at the meeting. Optimus cleared his vocalizer awkwardly and urged Prowl to continue on.


	13. Exploring

**Exploring**

There was one thing that you learned after working with Sentinel, as much as the mech would boast and deride his comrades, you could expect three little words when exploring foreign terrain - especially if it was organic.

"You go first."

Jazz had no real objections to that. He was happy to lead the expedition while Ultra Magnus watched the rear and Sentinel grumbled in between them. Jazz found this planet beautiful. There were brightly colored plants everywhere, and the sun cast the sky in the most gorgeous shades of reds, oranges, and yellows...

Though, it grew harder to appreciate when Sentinel kept hissing orders in his audio. From "Don't go that way" to "That looks dangerous" and the occasional "Trying to get us killed?!"

There was an audible clang of metal on metal as Ultra Magnus had enough. Sentinel's optics were wide as he eyed his commander.

"If you want to lead, lead," he said flatly. "If not, let Jazz continue with the exploration."


	14. Greedy

**Greedy**

After the countless inquiries into his well being, the concern about his stress, and the flat-out _demands_ that he at least_ attempt_ to relax, Optimus and Jazz had fallen into a sort of routine. Awkward as it had seemed for him at first, he was beginning to grow more comfortable whenever Jazz took to visiting him 'for his own good'.

Though, another issue altogether had recently come into light.

Optimus leaned back obligingly as Jazz coaxed him. Skillful fingers worked their way into the cabling of his throat, soothing out the gathered tension. It felt _good _- but he couldn't fully appreciate the sensation, not now.

"Jazz." Optimus took hold of the saboteur's hand with his own. "You know you're not obligated to do this."

Jazz chuckled, leaning in to nuzzle the Prime's neck instead. " 'Course I do."

Optimus persisted. His free hand moved to cup Jazz's chin, lifting his head to meet his optics. "You're not obligated to do this," he repeated. "If you've taken interest in an actual partner, there is no need to continue this."

"Can't put anything past you, can I?" Jazz only chuckled even more at that. "Though, I think there's _plenty_ of need for me to continue. I could give you a list..."

Optimus let his shoulders sink, sighing softly. He let his thumb brush Jazz's cheek gently. "Jazz, I do not want you to risk having a _proper_ mate for my sake. There is no need to choose myself over another simply because of status."

"I know, Prime." Jazz smirked, twisting his head to nip at Optimus' fingers teasingly. "But, I don't plan on choosing anytime soon."

Before Optimus could speak, the sound of the door to his quarters opening then hissing shut again startled him. A figure approached and placed a hand on Jazz's helm, rubbing a sensor horn teasingly and earning a purr.

"Requesting permission to accompany you, sir." Prowl smiled.


	15. Happy

**Happy**

In retrospect, it was odd to imagine Soundwave, as reserved and silent as he was, ever attracted someone as bold and extroverted as Jazz. Their similar taste in music was to blame, of course. Though, they differed there still. Soundwave believed a masterful piece of music was to be admired with a silent vocalizer and attentive audios, while Jazz felt it necessary to dance or loudly sing along. Their separate ideal did not frustrate either of them in any way - in fact, that seemed to be the draw between them. Jazz admired Soundwave's great respect for the art of music and Soundwave was amused by Jazz's enthusiasm when expressing his own enjoyment. They reached a balance in a way, learning from one another.

Soundwave learned quickly that Jazz would not allow a war to change that dynamic.

They risked being discovered every time they met, yet neither could bring themselves to stop. Most of the time, they did not even need to speak, being in each other's presence was enough. They sat together, Jazz leaning into Soundwave's chest close enough to feel the vibrations of the music he played for them. Neither of them outwardly acknowledged the danger of these meetings. It was as if they did not speak of it, they could pretend it did not exist. A foolish notion, Soundwave would admit. But he could not bring himself to be bothered by it.

Jazz was laughing suddenly, stroking his hand along Soundwave's arm as he pressed further into their embrace. Soundwave tilted his head slightly, his hand brushing over the saboteur's back.

"Music selection: amusing?" inquired Soundwave. Jazz chortled and shook his head.

"Nah," he sighed, nuzzling into the Decepticon's neck. "I just haven't seen you in awhile."

Soundwave frowned from behind his mask, still not quite understanding. Jazz seemed to be able to notice the shift in expression even when it was concealed from sight.

"Do I really need a reason?" Jazz grinned, pressing a kiss against the mask softly. "Being here makes me happy."

Then he was laughing again, arms wrapping around Soundwave's shoulders and embracing him fully. This time, Soundwave gave the noise more attention than before - the sort of attention it deserved. Jazz's voice always sounded melodic to him, and even more so when he laughed. Contrary to what he first believed, it wasn't driven from any sort of amusement. Not at all. It was a light and carefree sound, bubbling out from Jazz's vocalizer in pure, unhindered joy. As if his happiness was overflowing from him, and there was no other suitable way to release it.

Soundwave allowed himself a rare smile and treasured the sound of Jazz's laughter - a melody purer than any orchestra could ever dream to imitate.


	16. Horny

**Horny**

If one had to look at it plainly, putting only three mechs on such an over-sized ship was just asking for trouble. Jazz found himself growing bored with having so much space and so little to do in it. In fact, it seemed somewhat of a waste.

That's when an idea came to him.

"You want to do _what_?" Sentinel spluttered as Jazz settled himself contently in the larger mech's lap.

"You heard me," purred Jazz, a fingertip tracing patterns on his comrade's chest as he leaned in to speak intimately against his audio. "I want to, _in every single room._"

Sentinel blinked, considering this for a moment before continuing. "You know, there's certain rooms that only Ultra Magnus has access to." A slight smirk played across his features.

Jazz smirked, pressing himself closer and nuzzling his throat. "I never said we wouldn't invite him along, did I?"

Sentinel grinned, his fingers darted over to the 'call' key on his command console. "Wanna go from the bottom to top or top to bottom?"

"I hope that double entendre was intentional." Jazz chuckled, his glossa brushing the cables of Sentinel's throat.


	17. Jealous

**Jealous**

There had been signs he tried to overlook for so long. It was only natural that Blaster and Soundwave were drawn to each other. Their alt modes just were just _meant_ for a rivalry on the battlefield. No one could ignore that - but it was what escalated from that dynamic that plagued him now.

Jazz wasn't being paranoid. He couldn't have been. He knew what he was seeing, as subtle of signs they were. Jazz couldn't explain what was coming over him. It wasn't any sort of disapproval of such actions between their waring factions, no, he couldn't dismiss it as simply that. Jazz wasn't angry at Blaster during those times he returned late in the middle of the night. Jazz wasn't disappointed when he saw Blaster hesitate to attack in their one-on-one confrontations. No.

It was something he didn't even realize he wanted until it was out of his reach. In all honesty, Jazz was simply jealous.


	18. Kickass

**Kickass**

As was common in Decepticon combiner teams, the joined form of the Combaticons was powerful, but lacking in intellect and grace. As a result, Jazz's alt mode was significantly faster than Bruticus, and that fact enraged the Decepticon even further.

"Autobot no match for Bruticus! Bruticus _destroy_ puny Autobot!"

Jazz swerved and dodged Bruticus' fist. He resisted a sigh, it seemed like all the gestalt Decepticons sounded the same.

Jazz spun around quickly to face the 'con, taking Bruticus by surprise. The Decepticon lunged - but Jazz was faster. Bruticus' fists hit the ground, missing Jazz by a fraction. The saboteur seized the opportunity and sped under the Decepticon's legs before he could react.

Transforming behind Bruticus' back, Jazz took his pistol in hand and aimed for the failsafe on the Decepticon's back.

One, two, three - jackpot!

The Combaticons fell apart in a tangled heap, aching and confused. Jazz grinned broadly, and held the team by gunpoint.

"You were sayin'?"


	19. Naive

**Naive**

When dealing with Jazz, Prowl had to heave a sigh on more than one occasion. There was a naivety about him that one wouldn't normally expect from an Elite Guard officer. Jazz tended to believe every odd piece of information given to him - even from Sentinel Prime, which in itself was only slightly frustrating.

"It's okay to cross this?"

Prowl sighed and turned to face his companion. Perhaps it was more than just _slightly _frustrating. "Yes, the water is shallow. It's fine."

"But Sentinel said -"

"Jazz," Prowl said flatly. After the umpteenth time, this grew irksome. "I don't care if Sentinel told you that Earth's water is acidic or that the plant life kills mechs on contact. It's not true."

Jazz frowned and nervously crossed the water to stand beside Prowl. He eyed the ground awkwardly, dodging the fellow ninjabot's gaze. "Actually, he said the plants were acidic and that water kills mechs on contact," admitted Jazz sheepishly.


	20. Naughty

**Naughty**

"Jazz, I do not find this amusing."

"Really? I do."

Prowl glared up at his companion, but only received a devious smirk in return. Apparently, it was hard to be taken seriously when rendered immobile, flat on you back.

"We have the stasis cuffs for a reason," Prowl said sternly. "They're not here to be played with. Of anyone, an Elite Guard member should know that."

Jazz only chuckled a bit at that, settling himself on the ground next to Prowl. "Mm, if we can't play... all right. We'll call this 'training' then."

Before Prowl could inquire to just what it was he meant - Jazz shifted so he was now straddling the captive mech's waist. His smirk was even broader now, boarding on villainous.

"Endurance training," purred Jazz, his voice low. "How long can you keep your composure, Prowl?"

To solidify this thought, Jazz's fingers began roaming. They were teasingly light caresses, and Prowl could not repress the shudder that slid through his frame. He couldn't quite bite back his gasp either when exploring lips brushed the protrusions of his helm. Jazz chuckled again, shaking his head from side to side.

He tilted his head to speak against Prowl's audio. "Mm, you're a bit rusty. I should keep you here all night until we make some progress then, don't you think?" Jazz leaned down to trail his glossa over Prowl's throat, pausing to suck the cabling. Prowl moaned vocally at that, unable to contain himself.

Jazz smirked, chuckling softly. "Or maybe just until you overload."


	21. Obedient

**Obedient**

Jazz's hands slid down the plows on Sentinel's shoulders as he settled snugly on the other mech's lap. His legs straddled and squeezed the Prime's thighs tightly, engine purring contently. Sentinel gave a quiet sound of approval, hands resting on Jazz's hips as he urged him closer. Pleased, Jazz let his hand roam upwards, stroking the wiring of Sentinel's throat. The Prime nipped his fingertips when they passed close enough - but Jazz was not deterred. He continued to venture upwards, grazing over an antennae lightly.

A voice cut through the charged atmosphere. "Jazz. Not yet."

Sentinel gave a groan of disappointment, trying to tilt his head and urge a deeper caress against the sensitive metal.

"Sentinel," Ultra Magnus spoke sternly. "Behave."

The Prime made a weak noise but complied, hands stroking down Jazz's sides distractedly. Jazz held his position, waiting with much more patience than his comrade. Though, he could not repress a soft gasp of pleasure when Sentinel's fingers brushed underneath his bumper. Encouraged by the reaction, Sentinel slipped in even deeper, causing Jazz to groan and arch. It in no way went unnoticed.

"Do you enjoy what Sentinel is doing, Jazz?"

Jazz whimpered quietly, his body jerking. "Yes, sir..."

The tone of Magnus' voice did not change in the slightest. It always remained the same, just like any other order would have sounded. His voice was still firm and powerful - leaving no room for argument. And it gave Jazz chills. "Reward him for it."

Jazz obeyed, leaning forward and pressing their lips together. It was predictable that Sentinel would refuse the human-like affection, and it didn't surprise Jazz when he twisted away to nip at Jazz's throat instead.

Magnus seemed to share Jazz's disapproval of that course of action. "Jazz, you may touch his antennae now."

The first brush of Jazz's fingertips drew out a shuddering moan. Jazz seized the opportunity and pushed his glossa past Sentinel's parted lips. Sentinel jerked in protest, nipping at Jazz's lips and attempting to pull away - but it only took a few firmer strokes against the Prime's antennae to render him utterly compliant.

"His chest plates next, Jazz."

Jazz slid his way down, kissing along Sentinel's neck and chest before pausing to trace the Elite Guard insignia with his glossa. His fingers found the thin seam at the center of the plating and followed it, silently requesting access.

"Sentinel, help him."

Sentinel's body shivered and he complied, the plating shifting loose just enough for Jazz to slip his fingertips inside and part them entirely himself. The Prime's spark was pulsing rapidly, excitedly - and Jazz had no doubt that his own was reacting similarly. Sentinel was shaking with anticipation, hands clenched tightly at Jazz's hips. Jazz let his fingers brush the edge of Sentinel's parted plating, glancing away to regard the mech who was seated away from the berth and watching them intently.

"Do I have permission, sir?" Jazz asked, not missing how Sentinel tensed in response.

Ultra Magnus remained silent for a moment, considering this. Eventually, he rose and approached the pair slowly. One hand rested on Jazz's shoulder, the other on Sentinel's head, its fingertips ghosting over an antennae teasingly. Sentinel whimpered and arched desperately. Almost as if he himself had been given the attention, Jazz felt his spark jump pleasurably in response.

With what felt like painful slowness, Magnus seated himself beside them. Even without being told, both Jazz and Sentinel alike knew to rearrange themselves against the commander's chest, curling obediently in his lap.

"I gave no order to desist," he said.


	22. On His Knees

**On His Knees**

Soundwave knew instantly that Jazz would not give in without intense provocation. He knew this not from direct experience, no, the saboteur had never been captured before now - but there had been others like him. If Autobots were admirable in one sense, it was their spirit. They were passionately devoted - which made them exceptionally hard to crack.

The traditional means would gain them no information from Jazz. At Soundwave's suggestion, they did not even bother to try. It would have been a wasted effort. Things would be easier and swifter if Soundwave dealt with the saboteur himself. Megatron had seen the reason in this, and allowed him to proceed.

Jazz was grinning when Soundwave entered his cell. He was confident, defiant, and just might prove to be an interesting challenge.

Soundwave's telepathy was a unique ability even by Cybertronian standards. Jazz didn't seem to realize what it was that Soundwave aimed to do when his hands pressed to either side of the Autobot's helm. Once he did - escaping was not longer an option.

The mental assault brought the Autobot crashing to his knees - but Jazz did not cry out. With persistence that impressed even Soundwave, Jazz resisted. Soundwave tried pressing at every barrier from every angle, but Jazz endured. Blocks met him at every turn. No matter how hard he pushed, Soundwave could not penetrate Jazz's mind.

A smirk twitched at the corners of the saboteur's mouth. Soundwave was hit with a single wave of thought, filled with taunting mirth.

"_It'd be easier just to ask me to dance instead of trying to force me to, you know._"


	23. On Vacation

**On Vacation**

It surprised Jazz that when he decided to return to Earth of his own accord, there were a few new acquaintances he had to make. Before he even got in contact with the other Autobots, he was greeted by an overtly cheery mech rushing forward to meet him.

"Bah-weep-Gragh-nah wheep ni ni bong!" The mech chimed with the hand motions to match. "I am Wreck-Gar! I am a hero!"

The last statement was said with his chest pushed forward proudly. Jazz tilted his head curiously, but grinned and introduced himself. "Autobot Jazz of Cybertron's Elite Guard," he said warmly. "Dunno if I can label myself a hero just yet though."

"I've heard about Cybertron!" replied Wreck-Gar brightly. "It's very very very very very VERY far away! And you came here all alone?"

"I'm on leave," explained Jazz. "Couldn't think of a nicer place to spend my time off than here."

Wreck-Gar blinked, then looked at the area around them, spinning around as he surveyed it. He eyed Jazz curiously. "Here? Right here?"

Jazz couldn't repress a laugh. "Well, not _right_ here, no." A thought came to him as he grinned. "You wouldn't know any nice spots, would you?"

That started Wreck-Gar rambling at a rate that would impress even Blurr. He took Jazz's hand and set off towards the city, bouncing in an wonderfully upbeat manner.

"Do you like fish?" Wreck-Gar asked excitedly. "I know lots about fish."


	24. Playing with Kids

**Playing with Kids**

It had been such a long time since they had a child among them that when Optimus arrived with Bumblebee in his arms, most of their ranks didn't quite know how to react. Some were afraid of damaging Bee somehow, and treated him like he was made of glass. While others persisted that if he was going to be a tough little soldier, they'd couldn't baby him in such a way, and treated him like he was unbreakable - much to the distress of those who did not agree with this particular sentiment.

Jazz didn't think he fit into either category. He was still considered young by Autobot standards himself, so he wasn't so lost when it came to handling the young 'bot.

There was one trait that stuck out to Jazz the instant he saw him - Bee was going to be a spy. Whenever he urged Jazz to play, Bee either wanted to show off how fast he could run, or how well he could hide. Which, in fact, was very _very_ well.

"Where'd you go?" called Jazz, leaning up to peer over a set of shelves in search of his young comrade.

A tiny yellow frame slid off the highest shelf and into his arms. Jazz caught him snugly, grinning as a big round pair of blue optics blinked up at him. Bee's face broke into a wide smile as his little hands raised up in a manner meant to be threatening.

"_Boo._"


	25. Silly

**Silly**

Jazz hummed quietly to himself as he swirled his brush through thick black paint. After a moment, he raised it to a doorwing - only to pull away again when its owner giggled, causing it to shake.

"Blue," Jazz said, chuckling himself a bit. "Gotta keep still, babe."

"Sorry," the young mech said quietly, shrinking a bit. Jazz went back to his work, slowly coloring the lower half of the wing pure black. "What was this holiday called again?"

"Spike called it 'April Fools'," replied Jazz merrily, dipping his brush again and working on the second wing. "Couldn't resist getting in on the fun."

Bluestreak laughed again. "How confused do you think they'll get?"

"Hopefully a lot."

Bluestreak nodded in agreement, looking over his shoulder at the saboteur eagerly. "Well, do I look like Prowl yet?"

"Not yet." Jazz grinned. "Turn around. I still gotta do your chest."

As Bluestreak moved to comply, there was a soft hissing sound as the doors to his quarters opened and shut again. The brush nearly slipped from Jazz's hands in shock. He and the Datsun exchanged a glance of terror that read of 'but I thought _you _locked it!'

"Jazz, I need you to -" Prowl stopped mid sentence and stared, his optics narrowing into slits. "Jazz, what in Primus' name are you doing to Bluestreak?!"

Bluestreak shrunk down, cowering behind the Porsche as subtly as he could manage. Not missing a beat, Jazz shrugged nonchalantly, grinning slightly as he spoke. "Humans say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery?"


	26. Transforming

**Transforming**

Transformation, while being an integral part of the existence of all Cybertronians for hundreds of centuries, was still a delicate process. Adjusting to a new alt mode, for example, was always jarring and took a certain amount of time to adapt to completely. Even after that was accomplished, there were other variables that could interfere. Cybetronians could withstand a great deal of physical damage, but the slightest dent in the wrong place could throw off the transformation process entirely.

At this present moment, Jazz had more than a just a few 'dents' in very, very bad places.

Bumblebee had come out of the mission far better off than he had. Jazz considered this a relief, but he could have done without the misplaced guilt and fretfulness that had taken over the young 'bot.

"I'm _fine_," persisted Jazz, shifting uncomfortably as Bee worriedly looked over his damaged frame. "Let's just try it one more time..."

Bumblebee looked unconvinced, but made no sound of protest. He took the necessary steps back to allow Jazz the space to yet again attempt his transformation.

There was a high-pitched whine of metal grinding against metal, clanking and jamming. Bumblebee's antennae went flat against his helm as he winced - but Jazz persisted. He'd gotten himself about halfway there before something fell out of line. Jazz tumbled back into bipedal mode, and fell quite gracelessly on top on the younger mech with a groan of defeat.

"I think you just made your damage worse..." said Bee quietly, fingertips brushing over Jazz's antennae lightly.

"Probably," conceded Jazz, tilting into Bumblebee's touch. "I think I felt something crack that time."

Bumblebee fixed him with a look, a sort of serious sternness that seemed out of place on his youthful features. Jazz relented with a heavy sigh. "All right, help me up. We'll go see Ratchet."

Bee grinned, slinging Jazz's arm over his shoulders and standing together. Jazz stumbled a bit at first, but leaning on Bumblebee kept him steady. The younger mech didn't mind the burden. In fact, he seemed to enjoy simply knowing he was helping. That was one of the most endearing of Bumblebee's traits, especially when found in the middle of a war.

"Just tell Ratchet my audios got damaged in the fight," said Jazz, resting his head on Bee's shoulder. "That way I won't have to endure the ranting about nearly getting busted to slag again."


	27. Turned On

**Turned On**

Taking captives was certainly not the 'Autobot' way of things. It was an action Optimus only took when completely necessary. To deny a beings' freedom - even if only temporarily - cut through to the Prime's spark very deeply. So, the circumstances for Starscream's capture were... unique to say the least. In fact, Starscream had come to them seeking sanctuary - though he hadn't phrased it quite like that.

The seeker boasted that he would be _gracing_ them with his presence - though in reality he was dodging Megatron's wrath. The two had disagreed on their latest plot. The scientist in Starscream's programming knew it would only end in calamity, and Megatron _needed_ that scientist for this plan to work. Deciding he didn't want to end up in a million little pieces, Starscream wound up at the doors of the Ark. He knew the Autobots had to accept him, for the chance of Megatron forcing Starscream to work against his better judgement was ever present.

Though, that didn't mean Starscream's stay was going to be comfortable.

They took shifts watching the seeker in his small cell. There was always the chance that this was some other form of deception, therefore Starscream could not be left unattended. The seeker had gotten incredibly huffy over that development. Though, thankfully he was wise enough to sit and sulk in the corner of his cell rather than protest.

Jazz found him doing exactly that as he relieved Prowl and took his turn on watch. For the most part, it seemed like those two had been ignoring one another the entire time. Jazz predicted Starscream would've given him the same treatment if what he was holding in his hands didn't catch the seeker's eye.

Starscream's optics intently focused on the two palm-sized cubes of energon in Jazz's grip. The seeker had been here for nearly a whole Earth day by now with no energon at all - and the hunger showed in his determined stare.

It showed even more in Starscream's panicked movements of haste the moment Jazz held a cube towards him - as if afraid Jazz would snatch it back away again. In his hurry, Starscream nearly dropped it. He recovered quickly, dropping to his knees to retrieve it - though the jerking motion sent energon spilling down the cube's side and over the seeker's hand.

Jazz allowed himself a small chuckle of amusement as Starscream downed the cube instantly. He was about to make a teasing comment about the action, but quickly found himself distracted as Starscream abandoned the empty cube and pressed his mouth to his dripping fingers instead.

One by one, Starscream trailed his glossa over each digit before taking it inside his mouth entirely - assuring not a single drop was missed. It took Jazz a moment to realize he was staring, and when Starscream made a similar revelation, his motions began to slow to a teasingly sensual pace. Starscream fixed him with such an intense look that it sent a vibration through Jazz's chasis. Jazz's engine revved loudly before he could think of repressing the sound. His internals suddenly felt incredibly warm. Starscream's smirk was absolutely devious.

Slowly, Starscream began to crawl closer to him. Raising his hand to the second cube in Jazz's hold, he slipped his fingers inside. Once coated in energon, he moved them to Jazz's chest, drawing little patterns over the white and black metal. Jazz shuddered deeply as Starscream leaned even closer, licking away the energon now dripping down the saboteur's chest. Jazz gave a choked sound. His engine was now at a constant, encouraging purr that he could not control. The seeker only chuckled.

"Enjoying yourself?" Starscream purred, licking at a gap at Jazz's hip and earning a shuddering groan.

"Y-yes..." Jazz managed, intakes heaving.

"Good." Starscream grinned, pulling the saboteur closer. "I was getting bored."


	28. Well Shagged

**Well Shagged**

It had taken a great deal of Jazz's best reasoning and persistence to convince Optimus that he _needed_ to take time to himself and unwind every once in awhile. With the amount of stress he was harboring, it simply wasn't healthy - and, of course, Jazz made it perfectly clear that he was more than willing to help correct that problem. Prime had been excessively difficult. Jazz wasn't sure if there was some sense of protocol that made him uneasy - or if their commander really was just that shy.

Needless to say, when Optimus finally did relent and allow Jazz to proceed as he desired, the reaction was not quite what he expected. Optimus was reserved and hesitant at first, if not a little awkward. Though, Jazz's touch quickly began to change that. It was truly clear how long it had been since Optimus had this kind of contact when each little caress and kiss earned arches and shuddering moans.

All it had taken was a brush of Jazz's glossa against the windshield wipers on his chest for Optimus' reserved resolve to finally snap. Prime was pinning him hard against the berth before Jazz could even register that their position had been flipped. Engines revved loudly, the vibrations drawing out a surprised moan from Jazz's vocalizer. Optimus muffled the sound with his lips, his glossa exploring Jazz's mouth hungrily and without restraint.

Solar cycle after solar cycle of pent-up emotion was released in one overwhelming burst of passion. Optimus moved over him in a fever, finding every seam and sensitive connection in the saboteur's body and exploiting them with his hands and glossa. Overloads rocked through Jazz's frame over and over until his mind wasn't clear enough to keep track of exactly how many there had been. The final straw had been when Prime's mouth closed over a sensor horn on his helm and _sucked_. Jazz cried out what must have been Optimus' name before off-lining from sheer sensation.

When he came to, Prime was seated beside him - and his nervousness had returned. Optimus stroked Jazz's hand distractedly, optics averting from his. "Forgive me if I got... carried away," he said sheepishly.

Jazz was too tired and high from the lingering pleasure to do much more than chuckle and shake his head. Optimus still shifted awkwardly, but continued. "You were right that I needed to... relax." His hand squeezed Jazz's warmly. "I don't know how to thank you."

Jazz made a content noise and somehow worked up the energy to move. He crawled into Optimus' lap, engines purring. "Just tell me that you'll do that again next time."


End file.
